


flick of the wrist

by villacreek



Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, that thing where A leans into B to help with something and B gets flustered, y'know...That flavor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24087541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villacreek/pseuds/villacreek
Summary: Before he could stop himself his mouth was open: “Impey, wait. Could you stop at my room for a sec?”
Relationships: Arsène Lupin/Impey Barbicane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	flick of the wrist

“This place is pretty out of the way, huh?”

“Yeah. Might take us a while to get out there, but as long as we stake out before Twilight arrives everything else should be a breeze. You’ve been fixing up that car out there, haven’t you?”

“Yup! You know it. She’ll be good to go whenever you need.”

“Great. This is shaping up to be pretty good.” Lupin replied to Impey’s affirmation with a satisfied smirk, patting the map laid out in front of them with finality. The two were alone in the dining room, discussing heist plans late into the night—he was confident that everything would succeed here without a hitch...but the importance of the plan, he thought, required a very clear outline.

Impey certainly didn’t seem to mind. He’d been eyeing the map with intensity near-equal to his, asking questions attentively and occasionally throwing in a few quips here and there (as was his nature). A couple times Lupin had felt the urge to smack him upside the head, but it was always in a playful sort of way. Yes, Impey could certainly get annoying...but Lupin cherished his expertise, and to a certain extent, his company as well.

Working alone could get taxing, sometimes, but Impey’s presence was always so distinct that any loneliness he may have felt before promptly got shunted away.

He looked up now towards his partner and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms up and behind him like a cat getting up from a nap. Impey was still looking down, he noticed: although he wore that same impish smile, his green eyes were focused, and the gas lamps around the room hit his face with a soothing, dim light that might’ve made Lupin’s heart skip a confused beat.

That had been happening often, nowadays.

As if to distract himself, he cleared his throat loudly, scooting his chair away and standing up. He leaned over and swept the map off the tabletop, folding it up neatly in his hands. “You’ve never been this invested in a heist before, eh, Impey?” he asked with a catlike grin. Impey blinked quickly when the map was pulled away from him before looking up to Lupin with a meek expression—one that turned equally mischievous when he stood up and had to look _down_ instead.

“How could I not be invested?” he asked, pushing his chair in with a smile. “You’re telling me you’re trying to stop a worldwide terrorist attack. What else am I supposed to do with _that_ on the table? Slack off?”

Impey flicked a strand of long red hair out of his face. “But are we done for tonight? Gettin’ a little sleepy here...and ah, did I ever feed Sisi? Sheesh, he’s really gonna kill me this time…”

With a wave of his hand (and without waiting for a response), he began to stroll out into the hallway, heading towards the stairs that lead to the bedrooms up above. 

Lupin watched him leave. He twitched. There was a twist in his chest again.

Before he could stop himself his mouth was open: “Impey, wait. Could you stop at my room for a sec?”

Impey turned around and shot Lupin a confused look. _Fuck me, what was that?_

But to Lupin’s surprise, he shrugged casually. “I mean, sure. ‘S on the way to mine, anyways? You need help with something?”

“...Yeah. My cane’s been acting up,” he lied on the spot. Oh, the perks of being a gentleman thief. Impey would never know.

They walked the length of the stairs in silence, providing no small talk, and a silent Impey was always both jarring and a sight to behold. When he wasn’t making a fool of himself by opening his mouth, Lupin had to begrudgingly admit that Impey carried himself with some sort of rugged charm, jawline sharp and eyes bright—but of course, that was something Lupin had already noticed many times before.

...That was why he’d invited Impey to his room. Wasn’t it? ...Right?

Truth be told, he couldn’t understand why his heart occasionally fluttered when he was around Impey. At first, he’d chalked it up to be nothing but a surge of pride or admiration for his friend when they achieved something great together, but Lupin eventually began to notice the feeling surfacing at increasingly weirder times. Impey in the kitchen, making a meal. Impey dramatically keeling in response to a roundabout insult from Saint-Germain. Impey working intensely on a contraption of some sort, sweaty, covered in soot. Impey...just being Impey.

Eventually, after waking up from a very... _odd_ Impey-related dream, Lupin awkwardly came to the conclusion that whatever he was feeling was not simply friendly admiration. He’d lain in bed for much longer than usual that morning, fidgeting, brow furrowed, trying to sort out his emotions in such an out of character fashion he may have resembled a teenage girl. And of course when he finally came down for breakfast, Impey was concerned.

And he was hot, bothered, and confused. He’d...he’d never been fond of another man like this before.

Then suddenly they were at Lupin’s bedroom door, and he was appalled at just how much thinking he’d gotten done in that short amount of time. He fought to death with the blush that threatened to creep onto his face as Impey held the door open for him with a joking grin, and he entered with mock contempt on his face, sweeping over to the bedside table he’d leaned his cane against with flair. As if he had not a care in the world.

Impey followed him over and sat on the side of the bed, leaning to rest his head in his hands. “So what’s wrong with it?” he asked.

“The hatch at the bottom hasn’t been opening like it usually does,” said Lupin with a sigh. To prove it, he raised the cane in front of him and flicked his wrist in _just_ enough of the wrong way so it didn’t work, then he inwardly congratulated himself for being such a good actor.

Impey stared at the cane for a while, brow furrowed. “Could you do it again?”

Lupin obeyed, this time striking a pose. He placed his free hand fanned out above his forward and stood strong, leaning back dramatically. “How’s this?”

“Looking good,” joked Impey with a snicker. “Let me see it now…”

As Lupin handed over his cane he tried not to stare as Impey held it in his hands, his touch delicate—wholly different than how his appearance and personality might’ve implied. He ran his fingers gently down the length of the cane, examining the mechanisms with great care. After a moment Impey flopped down backwards onto the bed out of concentration— _his bed_ —and Lupin had to turn to look out the window.

“Well...there’s nothing wrong with it? You really take good care of this thing, for a cane,” trilled Impey as he sat back up, holding the cane out. “I think you might just be triggering the release wrong.”

Lupin quietly let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding as he turned back around. “Well,” he replied, taking the cane from Impey’s outstretched hand, “that’s good. What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re just not flicking your hand right, I think.”

Lupin scoffed. “You’re kidding me.”

“I am _not_ kidding you! I’m tellin’ you there just needs to be a bit more of a spin—”

“There’s no way I don’t know how to use my own tools right! Just tell me what’s—”

“Ugh. Fine!” Impey exclaimed, throwing his hands up and abruptly getting up from his seat. Lupin swore his heart picked up as the taller man approached him, seeming _taller than ever_ as he took a position directly behind him. They were...quite close.

“What are you doing?” hissed Lupin.

“I’m showing you how the cane works!” Impey replied, lip curled into frown. And then Impey’s arm was over his shoulder and his hand was snaking down his arm, and then their fingers were intertwined as Impey grasped the cane along with Lupin’s hand, guiding it so he moved it in the correct way. Lupin could feel Impey’s hair against his neck, and the warmth of his chest pressed into his back.

It was a very familiar, simple movement, but it felt all too foreign now. The compartment at the bottom of the cane popped open with ease.

“See?” asked Impey. The close proximity of his words sent shivers down Lupin’s spine. “Do you get it now?”

“Yup,” said Lupin, barely managing to sound put-together. “I...thanks.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, no problem.” Impey almost, _almost_ seemed to linger before pulling away, although Lupin was sure he imagined it. The man left with a grin and a cheerful wave as he closed the door, to which Lupin returned—but the moment the door was closed all the way he stumbled over to the bed and buried his blushing face into the sheets like a lovesick dandy. His heart was racing at a mile a minute.

...And oh god. The bed _smelled_ like him.

* * *

Little did Lupin know that Impey himself was leaned against the wall right outside, equally flushed. He brought a hand up to his face and touched his own cheek, lost in thought, knowing full well that there was no way Lupin simply _forgot_ how his cane worked.

But he somehow wasn’t complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made a ship name for them...it could potentially be lumpey and i think that is so funny


End file.
